


The Haunting of Winterfell

by updatebug



Category: The Haunting of Hill House - Fandom, game of thrones
Genre: Abusive Joffrey, Drugs, Gen, Homelessness, Modern AU, Psychic Starks, Sadness, The Haunting of Hill House Fusion, Tragedy, Winterfell, fusion fic, ghosts and hauntings, mental health
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-13
Updated: 2019-04-13
Packaged: 2020-01-12 21:15:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18454769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/updatebug/pseuds/updatebug
Summary: And those that walked there, walked alone.The Stark sibling's have been broken for a long time, ever since their father attempted to restore their ancestral home to its former glory. Jon writes novels about ghosts he's never seen. Arya throws herself into her work. And Rickon has been on and off the streets for five years.None of them know for sure what really happened on that night. But it never really ended. Not for them.And not for Sansa.





	The Haunting of Winterfell

_By all accounts, the returning to one’s ancestral home should be a joyous affair although, in truth, it had been some centuries since the last Stark had stepped foot within the halls of Winterfell. My Uncle told me, once, that the house had been bequeathed to him by a Great Uncle. He was to own it, guard it, but never, ever, live in it.  Perhaps he should have listened, however, with six young children all living in the cramped city, the thought of such a sprawling estate must have seemed a god-send._

_I don’t quite remember when he told us that we would be moving. I remember Sansa’s strop at the idea of having to leave her school and all her friends, and I remember Rickon tearing, wild around the apartment at the idea, but I don’t remember the moment of the telling. Maybe the magic of the house was working on me already. It seems like many things in that house were forgotten._

_When my uncle opened the doors to that house that summer, he brought with him; his lovely wife, his five children and me, the son of a disgraced senator and his beloved sister. There were seven of us in total._

_He would leave with six._

Xxx

Grey Wind started whining almost a minute before the phone rang.

  Robb frowned, sliding the drawer he kept it in open, and glancing over the display. It was Sansa. Again. He caught his bottom lip between his teeth, weighing it up. Sansa knew better than to call him during work hours, so if she’d forgotten there was the chance it might be something important.

  The choice was taken out of his hands by the knock on his office door.

  Robb switched the phone off and shut the drawer, turning to welcome his appointment. Grey Wind already knew his part, lying down to seem unthreatening and pricking his ears forwards in interest.

  “Come in,” Robb called.

  A blonde head peered round the door and Robb smiled, picking up his pen.

  “Ah, Olyvar, how can I help you?”

 

Xxx

 

Bran frowned.

  His tongue stuck slightly out of the corner of his mouth in concentration as he smoothed another layer of white paint across the canvas. He was only working on the block colours and he could already see how this might become one of his best works. A mighty tree, similar to an elm but in shades of white and crimson. Once he had the first layers blocked out, he would switch to his finer brush and fill in the details, the fine veins on the leaves and the texture of the bark twisting round into a sinister, carved face leering out from the trunk.

  A flash of feathers in the window caught his eyes and he flinched, heart pounding as a raven flew across the window.

  Bran panted slightly, trying to catch his breath after the scare. _It was just a normal raven. Nothing else. It had the normal number of eyes._

  Summer padded over to him, resting his muzzle on Bran’s knees and staring soulfully up at him with wide eyes. Bran sighed and wheeled over to the backdoor to let him out.

  He kept his phone on silent when he painted.

  He didn’t even know it rang.

 

Xxx

 

The phone rang again as Robb was juggling his door keys and Grey Wind’s lead, a plastic bag of groceries looped around one wrist.

  “Hello?”

_“You have to do something about her.”_

  “Hello Arya, nice to speak to you,” Robb said, finally getting the key in the lock and opening the door, letting Grey Wind free to run inside. “I’m doing well, thanks, how are you?”

 _“Yes, fine, I’m glad you’re well, whatever_.” Arya said grumpily. _“Anyway, Sansa, you need to do something about her.”_

  Robb winced. “She rang you too?”

 _“She wouldn’t stop ringing.”_ Arya snapped _. “I’m on set. I can’t drop everything just because Sansa needs to have another whine.”_

  “That’s not fair.” Robb chided. It wasn’t Arya had seen Sansa last time. She knew she was fragile.

  Arya didn’t say anything, but there was a telling silence across the line that let Robb know that she at least felt a little bad about what she’d said.

  “How is the set, anyway? Who are you body-doubling for again?” Robb asked.

_“Maisy Williams.”_

  “Huh.” Robb tossed his keys onto the hall table and went to dump the groceries in the kitchen. “I didn’t know she had an action movie coming up, it going alright?”

 _“It would be going better if I could concentrate on the scene for five minutes without my phone going off.”_ Arya griped.  

  Robb thought longingly of his sofa, Talisa had gone to visit her mother for the week, and he had been looking forwards to vegging out on the sofa with a beer and a takeaway and watching the game. Then he went to put the milk in the fridge before it could spoil.

  “Okay, look.” He said. “I’ve still got her spare key from last time, I’ll go over tonight and check on her.”

_“Thanks, Robb.”_

  “Yeah, yeah.” Robb rolled his eyes. “Tell Gendry and Nymeria hi from me.”

 

Xxx

 

“It’s cold Shaggy,” Rickon whined, rubbing his face into Shaggydog’s side.

  He’d lost his shoes again, and his feet were black with grime and painfully, awfully, cold.

  Thieving wasn’t normally something that Rickon had to bother about. Shaggydog was big and threatening and wolf-like and enough to deter pretty much anyone.

  But Rickon had been so hungry. And hardly any of the shelters around here allowed pets, so he’d had to send Shaggydog to hide for the night and checked into one of the local shelters. And then someone had stolen his shoes.

  He jiggled his leg restlessly, curling against Shaggydog’s back in some abandoned alley somewhere and wished that he had some money. Or at least something that he could sell. Apart from Shaggy. He would never get rid of Shaggy.

  Rickon groaned and uncurled, standing up and wincing as that meant he had to put his feet back on the freezing ground.

  “C’mon Shaggy,” He mumbled. “What do you think? Sanny or Bran?”

  Shaggy whufed slightly and wagged his tail from side to side.

  “Right.” Rickon said, nodding and staggering at the movement. “That’s what I thought too.”

 

Xxx

 

There was someone lurking outside Sansa’s apartment.

  A short bloke in a large black coat, that hid his size and flyaway black curls that whipped about his head like a halo. He wasn’t going inside, just lurking by the door and squinting at the intercom. Beside him Grey Wind barked happily and started wagging his tail furiously.

  Robb sucked in a sharp breath, the hand curled around the key in his pocket clenched into a fist.

  And the figure by the door turned.

  “Hi Robb.” Jon said, eyes squinted lopsidedly like they always did when he was either guilty or feeling awkward.

  “Hi Jon.” Robb grunted. “I guess Sansa called you too.”

  “Yeah, I couldn’t remember the door number though.” Jon said, spreading his hands wide apologetically and shrugging.

  “It’s 357.” Robb said, shouldering past him. “I’ve got a key.”

  “Right.”

  Jon shadowed him into the building and into the elevator. Lurking in the corner like an abandoned puppy that had been left out in the cold. Robb forced down the irrational stab of pity.

  “How’s the book.” He bit out. Jon looked startled and a little uncomfortable by the question. _Good._

  “Yeah, yeah, good.” Jon mumbled. “Do you know what’s wrong with Sansa?”

  Robb shook his head and placed a hand on Grey Wind’s head. “No, but if that golden-haired prick is bothering her again I’m going to bash his face in.”

  Jon hummed in agreement, the sound more of a growl. A sentiment that Grey Wind echoed, picking up on the feeling in the elevator, and baring his teeth as the low-threatening rumble echoed around the enclosed space. It was cut off by an inappropriately cheerful ding as the elevator doors slid open.

 

  As they stepped out, Robb caught sight of a flash of distinctive, flame-coloured hair disappearing around the corner.

  “Hey!” He started forward, “Hey, Sansa?”

  There was no answer.

  He shared a look with Jon who looked equally baffled and then started off after his sister.

  Her door was shut.

  “Hello? Hello Sansa?” He knocked.

  Grey Wind whined, low mournful sound, and then he lay down by the crack in the door. Paws over his face and nose pressed as close to the gap beneath the door as it was possible to be.

  Robb’s phone rang again. And he pulled it out of his pocket, swiping to answer the call and pressing it to his ear without even bothering to check who it was.

  “Robb.”

  The gravely voice never failed to send a jolt all the way through him. Starting at his scalp and ending right at his toes.

  He should have checked the caller ID.

  “Dad.” He said. Next to him Jon blinked, startled and Robb pulled a face at him, pulling Sansa’s key out of his pocket and tossing it at his brother.

  “It’s your sister.”

  Robb rolled his eyes. Of course it was. “Has she been calling you too?” He asked. “Look, don’t worry about it, me and Jon are at her apartment now. If Joffrey’s been bothering her again, she can come stay with me for a few days.”

  “She says she’s been seeing Lady again.”

  Robb froze. “Has she been taking her medication?”

  Beside him Jon’s head whipped round, a look of alarm that Robb imagined mirrored his own spread across his face.

  “I don’t know.”

  “No, of course you don’t.” Robb snapped bitterly. Grey Wind’s whines were getting louder. “Why would you bother asking something like that, why not just feed her delusions.”

  “Robb.” The seriousness in his Father’s tone stopped Robb cold. “She’s not at her apartment. She went to the House.”

  Robb shook his head. Jon had finally got the door open and behind it the apartment stood, empty and cold.

  “No, no.” Robb said. “That doesn’t make any sense. Why would she go there?”

  “The,” Father’s voice cracked. “The Greyjoys found her. Robb. Sansa’s dead.”

  And then the ground was gone from beneath his feet.


End file.
